


Trust me, We'll be Safe

by mizufallsfromkumo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, BAMF Lance (Voltron), BAMF Shiro, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Chases, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Light Angst, M/M, Married Couple, Memory Loss, Motorcycles, Non-Graphic Violence, Panic Attacks, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) is a Good Boyfriend, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 13:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14895755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizufallsfromkumo/pseuds/mizufallsfromkumo
Summary: Lance had never done anything wrong in life to deserve what was happening.Or at least, he was pretty sure he hadn’t.Lance just kind of woke up in the middle of a forest one day.  Knowing only his name and the fact that his head and the wound in his shoulder at the time hurt.  But that was it.





	Trust me, We'll be Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Ta-da, this is the one that might possibly want to turn into an AU sort of thing. Because one I have so many background ideas for this fic, that aren't even touched upon. And two it would be neat to see where it would go
> 
> I know, I said Spy AU, but I'm not really sure if it even is that, cause it's kind of like two secret organizations just going after each other. But like not to any one country, and like no one knows about them. So kind of Spies, but kind of not, however it is the only way to like convey these ideas.
> 
> Any way hope you enjoy.

Lance’s shoe slipped slightly against the concrete.  

The grip catching a bit of water or something as he turned sharply.  Giving out underneath him a little bit. Lance seemed to easily countered the slip with his weight, pushing off of the ground with one hand.  Barely even ruining his wild scramble of a run into the alleyway.

Only it was still enough for the people chasing him to see where he went.

There are loud shouts, in the language Lance had no name for, but totally understands.

“ _ The third alley down.  Hurry after him!” _ They shouted, in whatever growl of a language they were speaking.  “ _ Don’t let him get away.” _

Lance cursed as he bolted down the alleyway as quick as he can.  

He turned down the first bend as he glanced behind him.  

And his sneaker grip gives underneath him again.  Only this time it he can’t save himself. He crashes down into the ground, or rather the heavy metal of a sewer drain and its collected puddled from the rain a few hours prior.  And something bangs against a nearby dumpster loudly. Lance was pretty sure it was the piece of cardboard that landed wetley on leg, or his shin that was hurting.

“ _ He took the first bend.” _ Someone called loudly.  “ _ Go around, cut him off _ .”

Lance swallowed heavily as he quickly moved to push himself up and back to feet again.  Scrambling to get his legs underneath him and running again. Something he barely managed to do in time to glance behind him.

He cursed and clumsily dodged a swing from a man with a  _ very large _ knife.  Lance toppled backwards with a small yelp.  Rolling with it as the man moved to swing at him again.  Lance intinictly caught the man’s wrist, when he charged at Lance rose to his feet.  In two quick motions, he twisted the man’s wrist, with a snap sickening crack, so he dropped the large knife in pain, and kicked out his knee from behind.  Then he flung him into the dumpster harshly, making sure his head slammed against the hard metal.

And then Lance seemed to come back to himself.  Eyes wide at the groaning man on the ground against the dumpster, then down at his hands.  However a series of call from around the bed of the alley snapped Lance out of his slight shock.

Lance bolted down the alley way towards the safety of the far more crowded street.

The moment he got to the mouth of the alley there was sharp call of “ _ There he is!” _ by a from a group of three men on the street corner.  One of them pointing at him as the other two turned sharply to look.

“What the  _ crow?! _ ”  Lance snapped, instantly bolting in the opposite direction.

He roughly bumped into some people in his haste.  Causing two of them to drop or spill their coffee in hand with loud shrieks.  Lance yelled a quick sorry over his shoulder, glancing more at the man charging after him through the crowd, the the group.  And then nearly toppled over a stroller when he turned around. Loudly he shouted another sorry over his shoulder as he looped around.

But he didn’t stop running.

He needed to get somewhere safe.  Somewhere he could hide and the men wouldn’t find him.  And call Agent Walker. 

Because she’s was the nicer one of the two agents assigned to him.  She was always calm and listened to him no matter when he called, or why he called.  Even came over once a week to his little tiny crap hole apartment to see how he was doing.  Usually with pizza or some kind of take out, so he wasn’t  _ completely  _ lonely.  

Unlike her partner Agent Iverson.  

Who was always crass and short with Lance.  And if Lance wasn’t calling with something that could be useful or helpful, then he shouldn’t call at all.

So yeah, Lance needed to get away from the men, to somewhere safe and quiet, and call Agent Walker.   Inform her that he’s being chased by an group of men very intent on his capture...or well  _ death _ .  

Of course, Lance has no idea  _ why _ they are chasing him exactly.

It wasn’t like he did anything wrong.  

Lance had just been working at his job.  Waiting on tables at a small little restaurant and cafe nealy ten blocks from his apartment.  Simply covering a shift for Karen, because her little boy was sick with something terrible. Just making chatter in spanish with a few regulars about some soccer game.

Then a group of those men came in.  And Sam, the owner, told them to seat wherever they wished, just as Lance glances over to just in time to make eye contact with one of them.  Then the man muttered something and the others turned to look at Lance. They all seemed to slowly advance towards Lance, a few digging into their jackets.

Something in the back of his head screamed at him, ‘ _ run _ .”  

So he did.  Beat one of the men with his serving tray, and made a go for the front door.  Kicking another guy in the crock on the way. Scrambling out as vase exploded with a loud crack of a gunshot in his exit.  And then he just booked it down the street as quickly as he could.

He couldn’t think of anything he did to piss the guys off.

Like at all.

And Lance had never done anything wrong in life to deserve what was happening.

Or at least, he was pretty sure he hadn’t.

Lance just kind of woke up in the middle of a forest one day.  Knowing only his name and the fact that his head and the wound in his shoulder at the time hurt.  But that was it. 

Everything before that was a little...uhm...well  _ fuzzy. _

He had a few memories of his family back in Cuba.  But that was only because FBI tracked them down trying to figure out who the  _ hell _ he was, and what happened to him.  And his mother and sister had flown up instantly at the news. Come with a whole collection of pictures and stories, a suitcase of homemade meals, and so many tears.

Apparently they thought he was dead...some accident somewhere or something.  Though it happened nearly ten years prior. Long before the state trooper found Lance wandering around the edge of the highway.

But it sparked a few things here and there.  

Earlier years, and nothing _ actually _ helpful according to Iverson.

But like, Lance was a good person.  

He helped people out when ever he could.  Took shifts for co-workers who where sick or had personal issues to tend to.  Put spare change in low parking meters when he had some. He watched his neighbor’s kids when they needed it.  Fixed things to the best of his abilities...which were oddly very vast. Translated Spanish to Russian and Russian to Spanish for his landlord and the old woman in 3B.  Barely ever crossed the street outside of a crosswalk.

He was a good person.

It felt safe to assume that he a good person before.

Even if he could subdue a man in thirty seconds for trying to mug his mother, sister, and him one night.  

Lance wasn’t quite sure how he did that so easily.  Or where he even learned how do to do it all in the first place.  Just that he could. And he broke the poor man’s arm and knocked him unconscious in the process of his mother trying to fish out her wallet.  

And he can’t remember doing anything bad.

Expect for like the one time he remembered putting baby power in Veronica’s blow dryer because Marco dared him to.  And lying to his mother once about going somewhere and going completely somewhere else with his friends. But that was it.

Nothing else.

So why a group of any men were chasing him with an intent to kill, Lance had no idea.

And he was not going to try and find out.

Lance turned sharply down another alleyway.  

One he used for a short cut to the subway station all the time.  It would lead him right back to his apartment. Where he could hurry inside and lock the doors and close the blinds.  Call up Agent Walker and tell her what happened, if she hasn’t heard some verison from the police or someone already. And just wait for everything to blow offer.

Lance knows all the twists and turns of the building network.  

He could lose the guys chasing him easily, weaving in and out of his little short cut.  He could hear them shouting orders out to each other, but still a distance away. 

If Lance hurried and was lucky enough, he could lose them around the first few turns.

Then just bolt for home sweet home to batten down the hatches.

It’s a great plan.  

Awesome plan.

A plan that totally gets run over by a motorcyclist that stopped sharply in the street entry of the first alley.  Screeching tires and the whole works. Right in front of Lance’s path.

Lance barely managed to stop running as the driver turned to look at him.  The black of their motorcycle helmet only showing Lance his own reflection.  Which given that the guys body was already built and massive, it really helped the intimidation factor.  

Honestly he was smaller than the guys currently giving Lance chase, but  _ still! _

“Get on.”  Come a sharp order.

Deep commanding voice also adding to the intimidation factor.  

“Ugh…”  Lance stated intellectually.  “Do what now?”

“Get on the bike.”  The voice, or rather driver, ordered again.

“I think I’m...um...good.”  Lance returned with shaky fake confidence.  “I’m just going to go..”

“Get on the bike, Lance,”  The drive ordered, and Lance froze.

Not only because the guy  _ knew _ his name.  But also because in one quick motion he pulled out a gun from somewhere on his person.  _ Left shoulder holster, under jacket _ , his mind weirdly just supplied.  And was currently pointing it  _ right at _ Lance.

“ _ Now, _ please.”  The driver snapped harshly.

Suddenly he pulled the trigger twice.

Lance squeaked as he flinched at the sound of two gunshots.  Waiting for a burning sensation of pain to hit him somewhere, or something.  But nothing does. In fact there was two heavy thumps behind him shortly after.

The cuban man turned to see two lumps that were two of the men chasing after him.

“Get on the bike, Lance.”  The driver ordered again.

“You just shot those guys!”  Lance snapped back, whipping around to the driver, who still has his gun aimed down the alleyway.  “You just...did you kill them?!”

“Not if someone gets them to medical attention in time.”  The drive returned nonchalantly. 

And Lance’s eyes go wide. 

What.  

The.  

_ Hell. _

Was _ happening?! _

“Please, get on the bike, Lance.”  The drive continued easily enough. “I’m not going to ask again.” And then he fires off another shot like it proved a point.  

But there is another solid thud somewhere behind Lance.

“How do you know my name?”  Lance asked desperately.

“Lance…”

“No, don’t you tell me to get on the damn motorcycle.”  Lance stated firmly. “Tell me how you know my name or I walk.”  Well run really, cause Lance is going to bolt like the scared animal he was right then and not look back.

The driver growled, and some shots ran out behind Lance.  Causing him to flinch and duck as they went off and whizzed past him.  Hudding around himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. The man sharply fired back in quick succession.

“Lance, just…”  The drive paused for a moment to sigh out his frustrations almost.  “Just  _ trust _ me.”

And something in Lance’s head just agreed with that.  

Like in old part of him crawled up from the depths and flipped a switch with clear knowledge.  The motorcyclist, whoever he was, was someone Lance could trust without question. His whole body believed it.

So Lance got on the motorcycle and latched on.

* * *

The motorcycle rumbled lowly as eased to a stop.  Lurching slightly as it came to a rest. And then the rumbling came to stop completely and the vehicle stopped  _ vibrating _ from under Lance.  But he didn’t move.

He stayed as he had for most of the ride to...wherever he was now.

Hunched against the back of the motorcycle’s driver.  Face buried against the leather of their jacket, with his eyes glued shut.  Shoulders hiked up to protect his ears from the roaring wind. Arms still tightly around the driver’s torso.  Fingers and hands in a complete death grip against the man’s shirt and his own wrists. His legs pressed up against the man’s thighs as tightly as he could.

Lance could feel himself trembling slightly.

Not that he could blame himself.  

The driver had gone incredibly fast on the motorcycle.  The whole ride felt like they were weaving through cars, and making way too sharp turns.  At one point it sounded like there was sirens, but only for like two seconds before they took a sharp series of turns.  And at another people were shouting like they were on the sidewalk or something.

“Lance…”  The driver started cautiously.  His voice is soft, gentle, and unmuffled sounding.  Something lightly tapped at his hands. “You okay?”

Lance took a moment and sucked in a breath loudly.

One minute, Lance just minding his own business.  Doing his job, talking to customers. And the next he was running down the streets as fast as he could manage.  Only to end up in the middle of shoot out another minute and hop on the back of a motorcycle with one of the people doing some of the shooting and drive away.

Now he was somewhere he didn’t know with…

Lance suddenly pulled back his arms like they burned and toppled of the motorcycle.  Ungracefully fell on his left side with a grunt. Before he scrambled away from the vehicle until his back his something hard.

His hand flying to it, to find it was a wall, or a something that was concrete.

He quickly used it to get stand up.  His eyes wildly glancing around his surrounds to find them semi lit with fluorescent lighting and whatever daylight was pouring through openings.

_ Parking Garage _ his mind supplies where it’s just not registering for him.

Oh, god, he was in a parking garage, a mostly empty one too.  

He was in a parking garage with a man that just shot three people.

Why the  _ hell _ was he in an almost empty parking garage with a guy that just shot three people?

Why can’t he  _ breathe?! _

“Lance, babe, relax, you’re having a panic attack.”  The man’s voice said, and something gently grabs his arms.  To Lance’s surprise he doesn’t flinch away like he did when Veronica tried the same thing.  Lance turned to face the man, but he doesn’t exactly register his face. “You need to relax.  Breath with me, okay?” Lance nodded in agreement “In...out...in...out. Good. You’re going great.”

He followed the man’s instructions until Lance felt normal again. 

Slowly he started to relax.  The tension leaving his shoulders, and his brain was dwindling down from his panic.  All Lance could do was stare at the man’s face.

His hair was black, save a small batch that was white that hung in front of his face.  His face structure was beautiful, with a strong jaw bone, and soft looking skin. Even with the scar that ran across the bridge of his nose and and under his eyes slightly.  It still looked soft.

And his eyes…

The color of a coming rain storm on the beach.  

Grey and stormy, ready to come ashore with vengeance like it was no one's business.  Angry and fierce, ready to destroy if need be. Yet, they were looking down at Lance so soft and gentle, and dare he say lovingly.

“Better?”  The man asked.

Lance nodded, not once taking his eyes off the man.

There was something about him...familiar in a way Lance couldn’t quite place.

Then suddenly they were kissing.

Or rather Lance was being kissed.  And his body just kind of reacting on instinct, or something.  Responding naturally to the feel of the man’s hands against him.  Just knowing how to move to get them to slide along him in just the right way.

Lance doesn’t immediately shove him away on the grounds that the guy is extremely attractive.  Like yeah the man could come out nowhere and kiss Lance silly any day of the week, he wasn’t going to complain.  But it also feels really good to like have the man’s hands on his body.

Okay, maybe he was indulging just a little.

It’s been...well awhile, Lance isn’t really sure the last time something like this actually happened to him.  But he hadn’t gotten anything in the seven months since he woke up in the woods completely blank...so, yeah.

The man pulled away slowly, rubbing at Lance’s cheek idly as he glanced down at him.

“Who are you?”  Lance asked tentatively.   Looking up at the man carefully as he completely ruined the moment. “How did you know my name?”

The man looked chest fallen.  Completely heartbroken and saddened by the very words.  Hand’s pulling away from him at like a child who got caught doing something they shouldn't.  Eyes searching Lance for  _ something _ before they harden into something else.  Something of more controlled emotions. 

Lance almost wished he could take them back  and say them some other time when they weren’t  _ here. _

“Sorry, I...something happened to me.” Lance said hurriedly like it could make up for the words.  “I don’t know what, but I don’t really remember  _ anything _ before.  I mean, I know some stuff from my childhood, but they found my family and they had pictures.  And some stuff came back...but...ugh, not  _ a lot _ .  There is a big like ten year gap no one can account for.”  He rambled. “I’m sorry if I don’t recognize you, whoever you are.”

“Takashi Shirogane,”  The man introduced himself instantly.  “But everyone calls me Shiro.”

“Well, nice to meet you Shiro.”  Lance smiled out offering his hand up to shake.  Even though the whole motion of the action felt funny and odd.  “I’m Lance...but you kind of already seemed to know that.”

“Yeah, kind of.”  Shiro chuckled out smoothly as he seemed to take Lance’s hand anyway.

A silence come of them.  Awkwardly blanketing over the two of them.  

Shiro shifted back towards his motorcycle ever so slightly after releasing Lance's hand.  Half glancing at the bike, and half looking over Lance. Both for any injuries but also just in  _ general _ .  

Lance reached into his shirt to pull out the chain he hide under there.  His fingers quickly finding the ring that hung like a pendant on the small chain.  Instantly fiddling it it like he always did when he seemed to get nervous, or thinking to hard about what his life  _ might _ have been since he couldn’t remember.

The ring was the one thing that ever seemed to calm him.

When the hospital first returned his things to him while he was recovering he nearly flipped out that something was missing.  He hadn’t known  _ what _ was missing, which provided no help to anyone.  But then a nurse came in with a small bag that had the ring inside, claiming it must of fallen out of the pile and gone unnoticed, Lance had relax at the sight.

Sliding it on his finger with ease, to everyone surprise.  Lance hadn’t even realize what he had done till Agent Walker asked if he was married.  He took to wearing it around his neck after a few weeks of not remembering and feeling guilty for not  _ remembering _ who.

“Who were those guys?”  Lance asked after a moment.  “Why were they after me?”

“Um...members of a group called The Galra.”  Shiro explained easily. Lance is almost surprised his not blindsided by an attempt to keep it a secret.  “They probably recognized you, or something. Probably thought they walked into a trap, and you surprised them when you took off running.”

“They were big scary dudes.”  Lance defended.

“Never said you running was a bad thing, Sunshine.”  Shiro returned with a soft laugh.

But there was sense of relief to the statement too.  

Like Lance running had really truly saved his life.  For more reasons other than just getting away from the men from The Garla.  

However, that’s not what caught Lance’s ear.  Not what stirred something of a fuzzy incoherent clue of something in the back of his mind.

“What did you just call me?”  Lance asked sharply.

“Sunshine…” Shiro answered oddly.  

He raised a brow at Lance, curiously straightening his stance as he watched him.

Something about that word felt... _ familiar _

Lance fiddled with the the ring around his neck.  Rubbing it slightly against the chain it was on, and spinning it against his skin.  His skin of his index finger running over the small inscription the inside.

It was in Japanese, which Lance for some reason knew how to redd.  Because he knew what it said when his mother asked. 

_ My Sun and Stars -White _ .

Lance’s mother had found it completely endearing even though Lance had no idea who the hell White was.  Or that he found the characters weird in his head for some reason. Like they weren’t the right word he was translating, but that’s what it was. To her it was just sweet words, that filled her with happiness for Lance to have something like that.

But the more he thought about the inscription.  And the characters that never sat right with him.  It suddenly hit him.

The word wasn’t White.

It was a name.

It was…

_ Oh! _

Lance’s phone suddenly rang, causing him to jump out of his thoughts.  It seemed to startle Shiro a bit too because he went stiff at the sound. Lance hurriedly moved to dig it out of his pant pocket.

Scrambling to look at the Caller ID of the phone he was given by the FBI.  It was a simple prepaid flip phone with a set number of minutes, that were left to Lance to refill.  

Which was decently often.  He didn’t have many numbers on the phone to begin with.  But they were international and his mother liked to talk sometimes.  Trying to catch up on ten long years, that Lance seriously can’t remember, like it would make up for them. 

_ Agent Walker _ was scrolling along the small screen.

Yeah, Lance should probably pick that up.  

If Agent Walker was calling him, then it was very likely she heard what happened.  And if she heard what happened, she was probably freaking out. And if Lance didn’t pick up...within the first five times she called...well…Iverson would probably blow a gasket at him whenever they tracked him down.

Quickly Lance, flicked open up the phone and pressed the answered button, before Shiro can move.  “I’m fine.” He stated quickly. “Totally and completely fine.”

“ _ Oh thank God, Lance.” _ Walker said, voice heavy with relief.   “ _ Iverson was pissed when he found out what happened.  Got like a small army out trying to find you. Three guys are in the hospital with bullet wounds!” _  She hissed before there was a shifting over the phone.  Lance could tell she was covering her mouth. “ _ Where did you get a gun?” _

“I didn’t shoot anyone.”  Lance defended quickly, glancing up at Shiro as he bit his lip.  The taller man was watching him careful, looking ready to spring for Lance’s phone if needed.  “I swear. I just hit a guy with a serving tray and kicked another in the money bags. That it.  Okay...I broke a guys wrist too, but that’s  _ it. _  I didn’t shoot anyone.”

“ _ But you know who did? _ ” Walked asked almost instantly.  Shiro must of figured she asked, before he made a small attempt at the phone.  Yet stopped when Lance turned and tensed. “ _ Lance, where are you?  Right now, where are you?” _

“A parking garage.”  Lance said. Before adding quickly, “But I have no idea where.”

“Lance,”  Shiro suddenly warned, making a more direct attempt for the phone.  

Only Lance ducked and spin out of his grasp.  Easily moving to the other side of Shiro’s motorcycle, and shooting Shiro a sharp glare.  Which honestly seemed to knock Shiro back a step or two at the sight.

“ _ Is someone there with you?” _  Walker asked quickly.  Lance stayed silent for a moment to long.  “ _ Lance, who’s there with you?!” _

Lance fidget for a moment.  Carefully glancing at Shiro, who was still on the other side of the motorcycle.  Everything about it seemed to be controlled and schooled to a point that is completely unreadable.  Then he turned away.

“So, do you remember in the hospital, when they first brought me the ring... _ my  _ ring.  And you asked if I was married when I just put it on.”  Lance asked, swallowing at the fact that his mouth was suddenly dry. Turning back to glance at Shiro, who is carefully watching him now, with a lingering since of... _ interest _ .  Lanced waited for Walker to make a simple sound of acknowledgement.  “Well turns out, turns out I apparently have a really hot, built husband that rides a motorcycle and shoots people chasing me.  So gotta go bye.”

And then Lance hung up before Agent Walker could say anything and tossed his phone across parking garage.

It clattered against the floor a few yards away and slid to a stop.  Lance winced slightly at the sound and the sight of the back flinging off.  The battery shot off in the opposite direction. He tried not to think about the fact that he might have broken it, cause that seemed a little rude...but it was cheap.

He turned back to look at Shiro who is staring at him widely.

“You...you remembered that…” He asked oddly.  

Looking more like a small confused child-puppy than the scary man Lance first meet.  Lance almost wanted to lie. Just to keep that adorable look on Shiro’s face.

But he can’t.

“No,”  He said shaking his head hurriedly.  “I kind just... _ figured  _ it out...sort of.  The characters were weird on the inscription.”  He stated flicking at the chain around his neck.  “It always bothered me for some reason. Then it just clicked, that it was a name...not a color.  And you were here, and you knew my name...and well you kissed me.” Lance started babbling, finding himself slightly out of breath of no reason.  “Kissed like you know how to kiss me...so...ugh...yeah.”

A smile bloomed on Shiro’s lips as he watched him.

Everything about him seeming to relax as Lance babbled.  He leaned up against his bike and crossed his arms. Just looking at Lance for a moment.

“Why’d you throw the phone?”  he asked lightly.

“Uh...isn’t that what you do.”  Lance returned, glancing at the phone on the floor some distance away.  “When you don’t want people track you. That’s what they do in movies...seemed...logical.”  Lance turned back to Shiro. “It was a gesture or sorts. I don’t know...maybe I also thought it would look cool.”

“It looked very cool babe.”  Shiro stated easily.

“Really?”

Shiro hummed and nodded.

Lance beamed.  

Because damn a cool looking dude leaning an a cool looking motorcycle thought he looked cool throwing a phone.  Cool looking dude was also kind of Lance’s husband he didn’t know he had, but still. It was something.

“Also, I trust you.”  Lance stated hurriedly, fiddling with the edges of his jacket.  “Which is kind of weird, because I don’t really  _ remember _ you.  But you told me to trust you and I do. So...”

Lance trailed off a little unsure of what he wanted to say.

Shiro glanced at him for a moment before pushing off his bike.  “Alright.” He said with a warm grin as he grabbed his helmet from the handle bars.  “You were on the line long enough for them to trace the call to a reasonable idea of this area.  So we got...maybe three minutes before local law enforcement comes crawling around.” He saddled the bike as a wide grin bloomed across his face.  “What do you say we get out of here, and I take you back to the team?”

“Sounds like a plan, but...um…”  Lance said turned back to the phone.

“Grab the phone.”  Shiro sighed out.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it clearly doesn’t have GPS in it.  And the thing looks like it’s from the early 2000s.”  Shiro started with a loud laugh, as he put his bike helmet on and moved the bike to release the kick stand.  “You can take it with us.”

“Oh thank you.”  Lance breathed out in relief before racing to put up the phone pieces.  “I just put like 200 minutes on it, and my mom’s number is on there.” He explained as he hurried back to Shiro and the bike.  Climbing on after he stuffed the pieces in his pocket.

Shiro shook his head at him as the engine of the bike roared to life.

And then they were speeding out of there.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm just super proud of how this came out. Like I can't properly put it into words. I absolutely love the idea of Lance forgetting everything, because like that Shangst, I got to have it.
> 
> Here is some general background info for this fic: Shiro and Lance are obviously married and have been for a while. Shiro calls Lance "Sunshine", as well as "My Sun and Stars", and Lance in turn calls him "Moonshine" or "My Nigh Sky". Both of them the second name engraved on the inside of their rings in the other's native language. They work for a group call Voltorn, and everyone is a bad ass. Also everyone is legally dead, despite being very much still alive. Lance was captured by the Galra, and held for like a few months until he escaped and forgot everything. Shiro and everyone totally thought he was dead (though Shiro still is in denial). And Shiro and Kieth were totally chilling out side the restaurant Lance worked at, and totally saw him sprint out of there, and where like "Oh shit that's Lance." 
> 
> I don't know. Also if you guess recognize the small part when Lance is being kissed by Shiro, it's because some how it accidentally got passed in my first fic for Shance fluff week. It is no longer there, so if you don't, don't worry about it.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy, see you tomorrow for one last time.


End file.
